Love Is Evol
by The Talentless Hack
Summary: “Small Things”-verse, pre-CM, oneshot. “Tokio, you have reached new heights of paranoia, she thought with a frown. It’s probably that obnoxious man’s fault, too. And even if it isn’t, I’m totally blaming him anyway, so there.”


**A/N:** Thanks go to Christopher Titus for the title; I plan to watch, and thoroughly enjoy, his special of the same name tonight when it premieres on Comedy Central.

So. This is way too long for "Small Things," which is where I was originally thinking of posting it. So, I give to you all, the first (though I won't say last, because those things have a tendency of biting you in the ass later) "Small Things" oneshot. Who'd a thunk?

Chronologically, this is the Valentine's Day before the events of _Captain Miserable_. Just for reference.

Anyway: enjoy kiddies! And Happy Valentine's Day!

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Words to Watch Out For:

_giri-choco_: "obligation chocolate." Given to colleagues and coworkers.

_honmei-choco_: "true sweethearts chocolate." Given to the special someone in your life, and usually far more elaborate than giri-choco.

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Disclaimer: Like I really need to be reminded of that lamentable fact…

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_Love Is Evol_

_XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoX_

Valentine's Day could bite a big one.

Tokio stared morosely at the chocolate on display, torn between frustration and irritation—two feelings that usually accompanied the appearance of a certain lanky, sardonic police officer who was not currently present.

Then again, the fact that he was thwarting her without even being there didn't surprise her in the slightest.

Saitou Hajime was good at that sort of thing.

She was still trying to figure out if it was an innate talent or one he'd had to cultivate over the course of his life.

(Something told her it was most likely the former.)

For the first time since making his acquaintance, Tokio was considering doing something rather…_risky_, given the parameters of their association.

Or rather, this was the first time she was giving it _serious_ consideration—she'd have been lying if she'd said this was the first time she'd thought about it.

The "it" in question was whether or not it would be wise to give the man a little box of chocolates for Valentine's Day. Her first impulse was that she should, but Reason had this nasty habit of fouling up simple things. Because Reason brought up several points Tokio hadn't quite considered, such as: What kind of message would she be sending Saitou should she give him a box of chocolates? What sort of message _did_ she want to send him? Did he even like chocolate? What if he was allergic to it? What if, being allergic to it but feeling obligated to accept the chocolates, he also felt obligated to eat some and ended up in the hospital, or worse _dead_, because she hadn't bothered to find out if chocolate made his throat swell up and made him break out into hives?

…let it never be said that Reason was always entirely reasonable.

Still, even though some of Reason's points could be a little ridiculous, most of them were actually quite good, and the more Tokio mulled them over the more she began to second-guess her first impulse.

Which led to things like her glaring at displays of chocolate.

Tokio sighed and scrubbed her hands over her face. She already had all the other men in her life covered: her father, her brother, Akira, Kamatari and his partner, and Enishi. In fact, she'd had their chocolates wrapped and ready for presenting for a week, which was about as long as she'd been trying to decide whether or not to buy a little box for Saitou.

She already knew she wouldn't be giving him _honmei-choco_, because no. NO. Regardless of how much she'd like to, Tokio wasn't comfortable putting herself out like that. She wouldn't be able to live with it if she gave him _honmei-choco_ only to discover that while he enjoyed teasing her and generally acting like he might-possibly-maybe be interested in her romantically, the truth was he was just a flirt.

(Logic, Reason's twin sister, maintained that Tokio was deluded and needed to wake up already, they'd been dancing around each other for _years_ and it was getting ludicrous, _and_ it had stopped being cute and funny like _three years ago_, and _who_ in their _right mind_ thought _Saitou Hajime_ of all people was a _flirt_, the man looked permanently _pissed off_—but Tokio tended to ignore Logic, mostly because it was way easier.)

So, like Akira, Kamatari and his partner, and Enishi, Saitou would be getting nice, safe giri-choco—that is, if she could decide whether or not it was actually as safe as it seemed.

_Tokio, you have reached new heights of paranoia_, she thought with a frown. _It's probably that __**obnoxious**__ man's fault, too. And even if it isn't, I'm totally blaming him anyway, so there._

At long last, Tokio decided to hell with it: she was sick and tired of glaring at chocolate, and of the weird looks people were starting to give her. So she reached out, grabbed an appropriately non-descript box of chocolates and strode to the cashier before she could change her mind.

It wasn't until she left the store that she was struck by a sudden, crippling bout of buyer's remorse:

"Oh gods, what the _hell_ have I done?" she moaned, horrified. "I'm never going to hear the end of this! That's it, I'm not giving them to him. I'll just…I'll give them to Papa. I'll wrap them up really nice, and give them to Papa, and I'll pretend I never considered this crazy idea."

So, of course, she didn't do any of that.

Tokio couldn't bring herself to give Saitou's little box of chocolates to her father. She wavered between her options—to give or not to give, that is the question—and in the end, the box stayed in her purse, silently mocking her as she went about her day.

By the time lunch rolled around, Tokio was a nervous wreck—and she hadn't even decided whether to give Saitou the godforsaken box or not.

He was already there, of course, so she couldn't even consult Shiori about her dilemma without alerting him to it as well (not that Tokio had any illusions as to what Shiori's advice would be: "Are you crazy? Give him the damn box! What in the seven hells is wrong with you, Tokio-san?! Why would you even think there was an alternative?").

_My life is so incredibly not-fair_, Tokio thought miserably as she walked to the counter, excruciatingly aware of the box sitting in her purse.

If he noticed she was ready to either faint from nerves or run for the toilet, Saitou chose not to acknowledge it, which she would have been grateful for, if he hadn't been, well, himself:

"Oi, Chiisai, you forget where Shiori's is or something?" he asked, leaning lazily against the counter as was his wont.

"No," she said with a frown, knowing this was leading to some infuriating comment but unable to not play along.

"Really. Could have fooled me—you're about fifteen minutes late."

She sent him a flat look.

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe your watch is fast?" she asked, setting her purse on the counter, glad that that blasted box was longer weighing her down.

Literally, anyway. Figuratively, she still felt every chocolate-dripped ounce of it.

"No," he said with a smirk. "My watch keeps excellent time, thank you. Yours, on the other hand, might need some tinkering with. I'd be happy to—"

"Not a chance," she snapped with a warning glare at him.

"Don't trust me, Chiisai?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. The smirk widened, and he leaned in close—too close too close _tooclose_!—and Tokio knew what was coming next: "I'm _very_ good with my hands," he said in the pervert voice, and she flushed dark red.

"Stop that," she said, inching back a little, hating that she was retreating but _needing_ to put space between them.

He chuckled but moved back, and Tokio swallowed convulsively; she loved and hated it when he crowded her like that, and that confusion of feelings wasn't helping her nerves any.

Or her mouth, apparently:

"If you keep being obnoxious I won't give you your present," she heard herself saying before she could stop herself, and as soon as the words were out of her mouth Tokio felt herself go white.

Saitou looked intrigued:

"Present?" he asked. "What's the occasion?"

"Valentine's Day," Tokio said automatically, and then silently cursed herself.

_Shut up shut up shutup!_

Saitou pursed his lips and considered her. Then:

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Where is it?"

"Oh you mean you want it?" Tokio asked, feigning a nonchalance she didn't feel—thank the gods she was able to recover fairly quickly. "Could have fooled me."

He sent her a flat look that told her just how much he appreciated his own snark being thrown back at him; Tokio only smiled widely before turning to the menu to decide what she wanted to eat.

Saitou let her peruse the menu and place her order in peace; Tokio knew this was less a courtesy on his part, and more him regrouping and plotting out a new strategy.

There were perks to knowing the man for as long as she had.

She decided to end her own misery by giving it to him before he had time to implement his new tactic, 1) because what was the point when she'd already told him she had something for him, and 2) because he'd hopefully think it was his "reward" for not being obnoxious, and thus decide not to do whatever he'd been planning to do. So when Shiori walked away to put her order in, Tokio turned to her purse, reached into it and pulled out the box and then turned to him and held it out.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Saitou-san," she said primly.

He inclined his head and accepted the box of chocolates with such a dignified air that Tokio was tempted to snap at him for making fun, but she kept her peace, afraid of what she'd say if she allowed herself to speak.

"Thank you, Tokio-san," he said. He turned the little box over and examined it; Tokio made a show of ignoring him in favor of looking through her purse for her wallet, though she watched him like a hawk out of the corner of her eye, apprehension crawling over her skin.

At long last he nodded and tucked the little box away into a pocket of his uniform, and Tokio swallowed dryly, a little let down that he hadn't tried one even though she knew he wouldn't because he was wearing MPD black; if he'd been in his civvies it would have been different.

The time passed companionably enough, and soon Saitou had to take his leave, soba in hand.

"One more thing," he said, as if he'd forgotten something.

"Hm?" Tokio looked up at him expectantly, waiting for some crack about her being punctual tomorrow.

"Beggars can't be choosers, but I really rather prefer dark chocolate over milk," he said, face inscrutable.

It took Tokio a moment to realize what he was talking about, and when she did she wilted.

"Oh," she said softly, gaze dropping to the buttons on his uniform coat.

There was a long pause, and then Saitou softly cleared his throat.

"Well, there's always next year, Tokio-san," he said kindly, and when she looked up, he was grinning at her, that faint grin that said he was pleased with her.

Her drooping spirits immediately rallied, and she found herself smiling back.

"Yes, there is," she agreed.

His grin widened, and he winked at her.

"Thanks, Tokio-san," he said sincerely. "Have a good one."

"You're welcome," she said, deciding it was far more appropriate than her first reaction, "The pleasure was all mine." "You too, Saitou-san. See you tomorrow."

He nodded and tipped his hat to her, then ambled on his way, and Tokio watched him go with a wry smile.

What a jerk, telling her what he wanted next year.

"It'd serve you right if I got you milk chocolate again," she murmured, shaking her head as she turned back to the counter.

And it would, but Tokio knew there wasn't a chance of her doing that.

Saitou better watch out—she'd be wowing the hell out of him next year.


End file.
